


Healing

by auburnimp, zheyrryhn



Series: The Cabin [3]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Canon Het Relationship, Canonical Character Death, Gay parenting, M/M, vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 19:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auburnimp/pseuds/auburnimp, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zheyrryhn/pseuds/zheyrryhn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A strange phone call has Takatori Mamoru sending for two old friends to protect Ito Ryo and his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing

Takatori Mamoru frowned at the ringing phone. It was ten at night; he wasn’t supposed to be in the office at all so why was the damned phone ringing? Sighing he picked it up.

"Takatori, you don't have much time. Kudoh is in trouble," the voice on the other end of the phone told him.

“Who is this?” The voice seemed somehow familiar but he couldn’t place it.

"How quickly they forget," the voice muttered. "It's Crawford. Now listen. There are some people gunning for Kudoh. Or should I say Ito Ryo? They're going to kill him and his family unless you get some help to him in the next three days."

The signal was breaking up, Crawford's voice lost in static for a moment. "I'm about to lose the satellite. Kudoh's going to die, if you don't send help...." there was a loud crackle followed by, "Fujimiya and Hidaka," then the line went dead as the cell phone lost its signal.

Mamoru replaced the receiver in its cradle thoughtfully. He’d always known this might happen, that one of their old enemies might find the weak link and exploit it. But he couldn’t let anything happen to Yohji. No matter that the man no longer knew him or even his own name, he was still family. 

It should be around lunchtime in England so a call to Richard Krypton was easily made. He wanted to see Ken again but at the same time he wondered if he had been forgiven for putting Ken in prison to get over his addiction to killing. And would Aya care at all? Sighing slightly he picked up the phone and made the call.

* * *

Ken took a sip of water and glanced out of the window. They were over land but he had no idea where they were. Last time he'd looked they'd been over the ocean. "I wonder if he'll know us."

Aya looked up from the book he’d been reading and sighed. “Last I heard he had no memory at all. You said yourself he didn’t know you when you collected my katana.”

And that was another promise Yohji had broken. His vow to find Aya and return his sword.

"So who do you think might be after him?" Ken asked, softly, aware of the dozens of people around them on the crowded flight.

Aya shrugged and put his book on the seat tray before answering. “Take your pick from the yakuza, several political groups, Rosenkreuz, Essett. Let’s face it Ken, we made a lot of enemies.”

"I know we did, Aya. But the thing I keep asking myself is which one of them would even know where to look for Yohji. I mean it's not like there are many clues around to connect him to us." Ken jumped as the kid behind him kicked the seat again.

"Sota, will you stop doing that. The man sitting there is going to get mad," a woman's voice said in a harsh whisper.

"I want something to do," the boy whined.

"Play your game," the woman hissed.

Aya turned in his seat and sent the child a glare that had him cringing back in his seat before resuming his hand held Nintendo game. He then turned his attention back to Ken and spoke in English as those around them were all Japanese.

“With the talents at the disposal of the last two organisations I mentioned, it would be easy enough to find him if one knew what to look for.” He shot Ken a curious look. “Are you looking forward to seeing Mamoru?”

Ken shrugged. "I'm not sure, Aya. I thought I'd be more excited, but--" he shook his head, "we've been apart for a long time and I'm not very hopeful that he wants to see me."

"And I hope it's not those mind freaks that have found Yohji. I'm not sure we'd be able to go against them without some backing from Schwarz." He glanced at Aya, "Even with their help we barely made it the last time."

“Well hopefully Mamoru can tell us more. KR didn’t seem to know too much only that it had to be us that came over.” He glanced at Ken with a slight frown. “And why aren’t you hopeful? I thought the two of you had been e-mailing each other almost daily.” 

He flicked a strand of his shoulder-length hair out of his way as he spoke. It was blood red once again, the die he’d used as a sensei having long ago grown out.

"It's easy to say things in an email. And well he's not Omi anymore, he's changed a lot." Ken turned and looked out the window. "I don't have any proof, but I think he's seeing someone else."

Aya frowned at the back of the seat in front of him. “That would surprise me. I would think your biggest rival would be all the power he has at his disposal now.”

And all I have to deal with is a wife, a child and amnesia. 

He sniffed at the thought. Yohji had always been too determined to have a ‘normal’ life to ever have allowed more than the few nights they’d shared after James had put a bullet in Aya’s shoulder and the resultant loss of blood had made it touch and go for a while. It was time he grew up and realised that he would never have Yohji’s love.

Well there was always Chloe if he felt so inclined. They had an easy relationship that didn’t preclude either of them seeing someone else. Thoughts of the blonde Romanian brought his last words at Heathrow when he’d dropped them off to mind. “Go after your heart, Aya. You’ll never be happy until you do.” Fat chance!  
The rest of the flight passed in silent contemplation--or deep depression depending on how one chose to look at it.

A slender young woman met them in baggage claim as they were getting their luggage. She told them her name was Tonkanese, gave Aya a set of keys and told him precisely where he could locate the car they went with before she gave them a smile and vanished into the crowds filling the airport.

They found the car and Aya’s brows rose at sight of it. It was his old Porsche. He ran a hand over the car and actually smiled. Having dumped their cases in the trunk, they headed straight for the Shibuya district and Mamoru’s office there. It was set in a large high rise and on one of the top floors, a sure sign of the money and prestige the only surviving Takatori now wielded. 

Aya parked the car in the building’s underground garage and they made their way to the elevator.

Ken rode the elevator up, unusually silent, mind running around all the things that might happen. Mamoru still loving him. Acting like they had never been in love. His hands balled into fists, and he stood there wanting to hit something, to have more control over whatever was going to happen.

"Do you love Yohji still, Aya?"

The Aya from the Koneko would have told him to mind his own business in no uncertain terms but, although still a killer, the Aya that lived and worked in London was not that uptight little prick, having come to terms with a lot of things.

“Yes. I never stopped loving him.”

"And I can't stop loving Mamoru." Ken ran his fingers through his hair. Hours on a plane and they didn't even get to go to a hotel to clean up, Tonkanese telling them they were expected at the Takatori's office.

The Takatori.

Not Mamoru, or Omi.

The Takatori. As if it was some sort of title.

The elevator came to a halt and they stepped out into a plush lobby area complete with comfortable chairs, low tables and a receptionist perched behind a tall counter. As soon as she saw them she smiled and picked up the phone, telling someone that Takatori-san’s guests had arrived.

Rex appeared through a door leading off and smiled at them both. “You made good time. Sorry about dragging you here straight from the airport but Persia believes time is of the essence. Please come through.” 

She led them through the door and down a broad hallway to a set of double doors which she knocked on before throwing them open. 

It was still Omi sitting behind the large desk staring at a computer screen and it was Omi who jumped up and rushed across his office to throw his arms around Ken. “Ken-kun, Aya-kun, thank you for coming. Rex please bring us some refreshments.”

Ken blinked, embraced the younger man and held on tight, lifting his lover off his feet and pressing his face into the dark blond hair. "I missed you," he whispered.

“And I missed you, more than you’ll ever know,” Omi breathed. Aya cleared his throat although there was an amused glint in his eyes.

Omi immediately let go of Ken and hugged Aya. “I’m sorry for dragging you straight here but it seems we don’t have much time. Besides, I was rather hoping you’d stay with me for a while. Take a seat both of you and let me explain.”

Aya and Ken sat down in comfortable black leather chairs and gazed at Omi who was pacing the floor and wringing his hands. Rex came in with a tray of tea and coffee pots, cups and even a selection of sports drinks for Ken. Then she quietly left the room, shutting the door behind her.

“I got a call from Crawford two nights ago,” Omi told them.

Ken had just reached for one of the sports drinks. He raised his eyes to Omi. "Crawford? You're kidding, right?"

Omi shook his head, his blue eyes full of worry. “No Ken-kun, I’m not kidding. He told me that unless I got help to Yohji-kun within three days he would die. Then he said your names so I spoke to Krypton-san, asking to borrow you.”

“Then there’s only one day left if Crawford is correct?” Aya asked. Omi nodded unhappily.

“Ever since he woke up in the hospital with amnesia, Yohji-kun has been watched over twenty-four hours a day seven days a week. Nothing major, just people who happen to catch the same train to work or home, work in the same company. They haven’t seen anything suspicious.”

“But Crawford’s visions are usually spot on,” Aya said as he helped himself to tea.

"Damn, that's right. We need to do something and fast to assure his safety," Ken remarked as he opened a bottle of something that was a pale violet colour.

"Maybe we should get moving rather than sitting here and visiting. I mean it's been a long time, but I don't want to cut it too close and have something happen to Yohji."

Aya glanced at the strangely coloured concoction that Ken was drinking and wondered if all the various chemicals needed to make a drink that shade had finally eaten away at Hidaka’s brain. “And do what?” he asked. “We don’t even know what the threat is or where it’s coming from. And the people who follow him every day are more likely to notice a new face around than we are.”

“Besides,” Omi said, “it’s not just Yohji-kun that is in trouble. Crawford mentioned his family too.”

"So what, we sit on our butts and wait for someone to come gunning for him? That doesn't sound too smart either," Ken retorted. "And what about his wife? Is someone watching her?"

“Of course, Ken-kun,” Omi said quietly. “But as she works in a busy hospital it’s not always easy to keep track of her.”

“Who looks after the child while she’s at work?” Aya asked.

“She stays with a childminder until Yohji-kun gets home.” Omi looked a little guilty. “I thought it best that Ito Asuka not know just how much her husband is really worth in case she started asking where the money had come from so they both have to work.”

“It’s a girl then?” Omi nodded then was silent for a moment before adding, “Her name is Ayame.” 

Aya blinked. What the hell had possessed Kudoh to call his daughter that? He had more pressing problems though. “And there’s no clue at all as to who might be gunning for them?”

Yohji named his daughter Ayame? Maybe Yohji does remember something, Ken mused as he took a sip of his drink.

"My intel suggests it's a splinter group of Red Lotus."

"Red Lotus? That's yakuza," Ken remarked. His stomach growled loudly and he blushed. "Sorry. The food on the plane wouldn't have fed a mouse."

“Is that kid you went to school with involved again?” Aya asked, whilst totally ignoring the growls from Ken’s bottomless belly.

Ken drank and sat in silence waiting for Omi to reply. He remembered the boy Aya was talking about. One seldom forgot rivals, and Aoki Seburo had done a quite a few drastic and expensive things in his efforts to woo Omi.

"Good question."

Omi chuckled softly. “Jealous Kenken? That’s good to hear after all this time. As for whether he’s involved or not, it’s hard to say. We know the surviving members of his family are.”

"Surviving as in the ones we never got close enough to kill," Ken replied. "And that was a long time ago, Omi. He chased after you, but you never went out with him." He scratched his head a little, "At least I don't think you did."

Omi looked hurt at that. “I never even looked at anyone else after I had you Ken-kun. Well apart from that time we both tried to seduce Yohji.”

"I know, Omi," Ken admitted. "But he made me so mad that I just wanted to scream and hit him."

Aya sighed. Red Lotus was like a hydra, you cut off one head and seven more grew in its place. The Aoki family was a case in point. "Is Yohji at work now?"

Ken abruptly stood. "That's it! That's got to be it!"

Aya frowned at Ken in confusion. “What’s got to be what?”

"That Aoki kid used to hang around the shop. Or he did until one afternoon when he came looking for you, Omi. Yohji told him to give up and go home, you weren't interested in boys. The way he said it sounded as if he was implying you were his.

"The kid started crying and never came back but I bet he'd know Yohji if he saw him." Ken closed his eyes for a second. "Aoki never came back after that, but I bet if he saw Yohji on the street--" he was starting to pace, "Yohji's pretty distinctive. How many men in Japan look like he does? Blond, tall, damn good looking, and those green eyes of his are pretty rare."

Aya shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There were very few men who looked as good as Yohji anywhere in the world let alone Japan. Ken had a possible answer but one thing still puzzled him. “Why go after his family if it’s personal?”

Omi was nodding. “To hurt Yohji-kun before killing him perhaps. If he’s that spiteful that a slight from years ago would fester to this extent then I think it’s safe to say he’s capable of almost anything.”

Ken tossed the empty bottle from his drink into the trash. "If he's Red Lotus you can't make any sort of revenge killing out of the question. Wasn't it one of their cousins that blew up an apartment building and killed seven people to get a rival yakuza captain?"

Aya nodded. “Yes, it was. There are three of us and three members of Yohji’s family. Do we take one each?”

Ken turned to Omi to wait for Persia's answer.

“No, they are well protected throughout the day. It’s at night when they’re vulnerable to attack. I think you two need to get some rest and the three of us will stake out Yohji’s apartment tonight.”

Ken looked at Aya. "Is that what you think we should do?"  
Aya nodded. “We’re both jet-lagged and need sleep. And if this asshole plays true to Red Lotus form he’ll sneak in like a thief in the night. I think the plan is a good one.”

"Well if both of you are sure, then okay. I won't say I'm not tired." His stomach growled and he gave Omi a lopsided grin. "And hungry."

Omi returned the grin. “Well we can stop for a meal on the way.” The smile died slowly as he gazed at his old team mates. “It’s really good to see you both again. I… I hope you can forgive me for the actions I took a couple of years back but I thought I was acting for the best.”

Aya shrugged. “I have nothing to forgive. I chose to go to America after all.”

"And I just needed some downtime to work out a few things," Ken added as they got up to leave.

“Could you bear to live in Japan again?” There was something almost desperate in Omi’s eyes and Aya remembered the many times he’d said that they were his family.

For himself he wasn’t sure. The idea of being so close to a married, happy and oblivious Yohji was not one he relished. “I don’t know.”

"If you're part of what I'm coming back to, then yes, Omi, I could," Ken told him and put an arm around his love's waist.

"So where are we going to eat?"

* * *

Ito Ryo looked much as he had when he was Kudoh Yohji. The same slim build, the same longish hair that had grown out over the last two years until it hit his shoulders.

The only visible difference was in his eyes. The haunted look was gone.

He leaned over his daughter's crib and smiled down at the sleeping baby. The centre of his universe just as his wife was the heart of his world.

She had her mother's hair, but his eyes. Bright and green as summer leaves.

"Who's the most perfect princess in the magic kingdom?" he asked her softly and watched her suck the side of her hand, feet kicking in her sleep.

Asuka smiled fondly at them both from the doorway. “You’ll make her so conceited and then where will you be?”

"Happy because not a single boy will go out with her," he replied as he turned and took his wife into his arms and pulled her close, pressing his face into her soft, sweet scented hair.

"Hmmm, you smell so good."  
She chuckled softly against his chest. “Flatterer,” she murmured, “it’s just shampoo.”

He set his mouth to hers kissing her with every bit of passion and love he had for her. He was breathing raggedly and the front of his pyjama bottoms was standing out, his cock hard and wanting. "I love you, Asuka."

“And I love you. Now leave your little princess to sleep and come to bed. It’s getting late.”

Ryo sighed and let Asuka go. He loved her deeply, desperately and with all his heart. But she hadn't let him make love to her since Ayame was born.

He loved her, but he was getting tired of jerking off in the bathroom every morning to get any relief.

"You're right, I'm tired and I have to be at work early too. We're presenting the ad campaign for Kitty Kitten Pocky tomorrow." Ryo let her go and headed for the bedroom, his cock rock hard.

Another night of frustration. Why won't she make love anymore? Why?

She climbed into bed and turned on her side back to his side of the bed. Within a very few minutes her breathing had evened out in sleep.

Ryo lay there for a few more minutes then he slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom take care of some frustration.

He closed and locked the door, found his bottle of massage oil and shoved his pajamas off, taking his erection into his hand he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, stroking slowly.

He thought about his wife. Her soft breasts, the sweet smell of her body, the feel of being hilt deep in her wet heat.

He gritted his teeth, trying not to make any noise, breath getting ragged. And the closer he got the less the mental image in his head resembled his wife.

The hair changed from brown to red. And her soft brown eyes turned to an outrageous shade of violet.

Shuddering he spilled himself into his hand, tears dampening his lashes. Crying again and he didn't even know why.

He was washing his hands when a loud crash sounded from his bedroom. He ran worried that his wife had fallen and knocked over the lamp.

But it wasn't Asuka. There were two dark figures standing in his bedroom. Shattered glass from the window littered the bed.

"Who the hell are you!" he demanded.

"Revenge," one of them said quietly.

Asuka jerked awake at the crash of glass and cried out as she made out a shadowy figure that was not her husband.

Pure instinct sent the man known as Ito Ryo into the room, heedless of his barefeet. He reached for something on his wrist, touched bare skin and suddenly felt naked without knowing why.

"Get out!" and there was a look on his face that wasn't any sort of expression Ryo had ever made. A cold, hard look.

The men laughed and there was a loud boom, Asuka's eyes going wide as a dark spot blossomed on her pajama top.

"NO!" the scream was raw, enraged. Ryo went for the men just as a crash from the front of his apartment told him the two in the room had more help coming.

A gun was raised, another boom tore the quiet.

"Bastards!" He stumbled, hit the dresser by the door as the burning pain took his strength away for a moment.

His eyes fell on the makeup mirror on the top of the dresser and for a second he didn't know who he was.

Then he remembered.

Kudoh Yohji. He was Kudoh Yohji.

And he was an assassin.

Hands closed on him, pulled him to his feet. And he rose with the motion, spinning to slam his fist into the man's face.

Two dark figures had abseiled down the wall from the apartment above and crashed through one of the Ito’s windows. Aya snarled and raced into the building and up the stairs, Ken and Omi only a few steps behind him.

The redhead reached Yohji’s landing when the sound of a shot pierced the night.

He swung round in a perfectly executed roundhouse kick and the front door didn’t stand a chance. He reached the bedroom just as another shot rang out. Without even stopping to think he drew the katana from its saya and across the gunman’s throat in a single fluid movement.

The man went down in a fountain of blood.

His companion by the window fired wildly at the new arrivals and jumped for the rope hanging just outside the window.

He didn't get far, Ken's strong hands closing on his clothing and hauling him inside.

The would be killer tried to bring his pistol to bear on Ken but the brunet hit him in the face so hard he saw stars and the gun slipped from his fingers.

Yohji staggered, hit the dresser a second time and used it to get his balance. He stumbled through the glass to the bed, took Asuka in his arms and held her close.

"Asuka? Talk to me, please." His voice was a choked whisper.

There was a wail from another room and Omi rushed into the other bedroom to make sure the baby was safe. She was crying but it was more from being startled awake by the noise than any hurt. He picked her up gently and cradled her, crooning soft words to settle her.

Meanwhile Aya watched for a moment, as Yohji cradled his dead wife, before turning away, unable to bear the sight.

Yohji moaned, tears flooded his eyes and then he screamed, "ASUKA!" and collapsed across his wife's body, sobbing and shaking.

He'd loved her, and like the first Asuka, he'd let her die.

Aya swallowed hard. He’d been too late to save Yohji’s wife and he felt a weight of guilt for that. “I’m so sorry.”

Tear washed eyes raised to Aya's face. "Kill me, Aya, please I just can't take this I..." His eyes closed, squeezed shut as he pulled the body of his wife, his love to him and held on tight. "I can't... I can't... Please no more... no more..." he sobbed.

"What should I do with this shit?" Ken asked, still holding the would-be assassin pinned to the floor.

Omi re-entered the room then, the baby safely in his arms. “Your daughter needs her father, Yohji-kun,” he said quite sternly before glancing at the assassin under Ken. His eyes widened. “That’s an Aoki. We have no further use for it.” His voice had gone as cold as an arctic winter.

"Since I'm going to hell," the Aoki murmured, "I might as well have company."

Ken felt a sting on his cheek. He swiped at his cheek, saw a tiny glint of silver spin into the darkness, felt something burning just beneath his skin. "You shit!"

The man under him laughed. "You're coming to hell with me too, Hidaka."

"You'll be there first," Ken growled and cut the guy's throat with his bugnucks. He stood, took two steps toward Omi, the room wavering in his vision. "Guys I've been hit, and I..." his legs wobbled. "Oh this shit is... bad..." he fell to his hands and knees.

"Get out of here... go..." Ken mumbled.

“Aya-kun, hold the baby for a moment.” Omi handed the child over before he reached into a pocket and withdrew his cell phone. Punching speed dial he held the phone to his ear. “Rex, send a clean up crew and medics as soon as possible. Three dead, two wounded. Thank you.”

He replaced the phone and reached out for the gurgling baby. “Help Yohji-kun.”

Aya handed the child back and tentatively approached Yohji. “We have to go, Yohji. Ken needs medical attention and so do you.”

Yohji shook his head the corpse held to his chest, his face pressed to her hair.

He couldn't smell Asuka's shampoo anymore. The sweet sent mired in the odor of blood. Death.

Another lost love. Pain tore his heart, dragged at his soul.

He'd been given a second chance at love and life and, like the first time, he'd been unable to keep someone else from taking it away.

"No, Aya." He knew them all, knew who he was.

And he didn't want to know. Didn't want to be the man who killed.

He wanted to be Ito Ryo, working in a small ad firm as a graphics artist and coming home to a wife, a daughter and TV. He wanted to be normal. To keep his promise to his mom.

"Asuka, please take me with you," he whispered in a hollow voice bereft of anything but the ragged sound of pain.

Omi’s eyes were on the still form of Ken. He was still breathing but Omi knew that every second wasted was time his lover didn’t have. A flash of silver caught his eye and he squatted down to take a closer look. It was a very fine needle-dart, the one that had scratched Ken’s cheek. Hoping that whatever substance had been used was still on its tip he shifted the baby as he picked up the dart in a gloved hand. His sudden movement and the jostling made her start whimpering again.

Aya’s eyes narrowed at Yohji’s words and he backhanded the blond. “You can grieve later; right now we need to go!” As the child began to cry again he added, “or doesn’t she matter?”

Yohji went totally still, eyes closing he sat there for a few heartbeats listening to the sound of his daughter's cries.

He gathered Asuka close, bent to kiss her cooling lips tasting the sharp tang of blood, death on her lips. He lay her down gently, brushed the hair from her face, closed her eyes and stood.

Blood streaked his torso from the bullet hole in his chest, right below his collarbone. He reached into a drawer, pulled on a pair of pants and a cropped shirt--both in dark blue--and went to the closet. From somewhere in the back he pulled out a floor length black leather coat and pulled it on.

"My boots are at the door," he told them as he took his daughter from Omi.

Ken knelt on the floor, blinking dully. "I feel like shit, Bombay."

“Keep as still as you can, Ken-kun. Help is on its way.” As he spoke, Omi dropped the needle-dart into a plastic bag. 

Aya felt useless and sheathed the katana after wiping it clean on his victim’s shirt. Then he realised how he could help and left the room. He headed into the baby’s room and gathered clothes, diapers and all the other paraphernalia that a young child needed and put it into a large carryall. He picked up the golden teddy bear from her cot and felt like crying himself. 

Yohji entered the room where Aya was standing his boots already on. "I need to know one thing before I go with you."

Aya turned to face him. Even grief-stricken and wounded he was still beautiful. “What do you need to know?”

"Did you lead them here?"

Aya’s eyes widened before they narrowed in fury. “No, you prick; Ken and I flew all the way here from London to save your miserable ass! Why the fuck would I lead a yakuza clan to your door? If you didn’t have that baby in your arms I’d beat the crap out of you for even asking such a thing!”

Yohji looked down at his daughter. "I..." He shivered, and dropped to his knees at Aya's feet, bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Aya. I just... I'm so confused. It's like I woke up from a pleasant dream to find my reality was a nightmare I..." There was a soft, broken sound, a sob of anguish.

"My dream was this child and her mother. My whole world just collapsed out from under me and I discovered I'm not Ito Ryo the graphic designer, I'm Kudoh Yohji the professional murderer."

"This is my real world, one of darkness," he turned his tear streaked face up to Aya. "And you're the only light that ever existed for me in this world."

Purple eyes widened in shock before Aya crouched down until their faces were on a level. “I’m the bastard who raped you, remember? How can I possibly be a light to you when I’m so full of darkness myself?” Yet one hand had reached out to touch Yohji’s cheek.

"I... don't remember you raping me, Aya. I.." he turned his face into the sword calloused hand, remembering the smell of the man he'd never completely forgotten. "Never forgot your face. Even when I made love to Asuka sometimes I remembered your face." He kissed the palm of Aya's hand. "That must mean I loved you, right?"

Tears streamed down Aya’s face. The first time he’d cried since his parents had been killed and his sister put into a coma. He touched a finger to the baby’s face, not wanting her to be drawn into their world, wanting to give her the life that he and Aya-chan, Ken, Omi and Yohji should have had. A life free of regrets and blood.

“I’ve never stopped loving you,” he whispered, his tears making the words come out in little gasps.

Ito Ryo was gone. So was his wife Asuka. Ryo had loved Asuka with all his heart, and so had Yohji in a way. But to Yohji it was like a sunlit dream, a life that belonged to someone else. A life he'd watched from behind a wall he couldn't breech.

And now the man he'd been was behind that wall, but unlike Yohji he would slowly fade away to nothing but a dim memory because he'd been part of a dream.

He leaned closer, kissed Aya gently aware of the child in his arms. The only bit of his past that would remain to be taken into his dark world. "I won't promise you anything Aya. I broke my last one to you and, I don't know who I am. Not completely. But I never forgot your face." He looked down at his daughter, "Or your name."

He rose to his feet, one hand on Aya's arm, urging the smaller man to stand. "Let's get the hell out of here before the cops show up."

* * *

Yohji held Ayame while she drank from her bottle, the baby fussing and kicking her feet. She was missing her mother as much as he did. "Please my beautiful princess, eat for daddy."

The baby sucked, waved her fists in the air and turned her head away. Yohji sighed and put the bottle down on the kitchen table. Tears welled in his eyes. He couldn't help it. Couldn't stop them.

It might have been Ryo that was married to Asuka, and he might feel as if he saw that life through a window, but it was him, and he had loved her though he'd faced the truth that the love had become one sided for the last eight months. Not since Ayame had been conceived had they once made love.

And despite his love for Asuka, he'd been very lonely the last three months she'd hardly talked to him. Her entire focus had been on Ayame.

Omi entered the kitchen to find Yohji holding his daughter and crying quietly. He turned on his heel wanting to leave the blond to his grief, not wanting to intrude. Aya however was made of sterner stuff and he wanted some breakfast.

He let Yohji cry while he cleared away the bottle, rinsed it and put it in the sterilisation unit on the counter. Then he quietly went about cooking them all some food. 

Yohji got up and started walking, gently swinging his daughter in his arms, trying to comfort her, seeking comfort in a familiar activity.

It didn't help him at all, though it did sooth Ayame. His tears flowed freely as he paced, humming a soft pop tune under his breath. His wife hadn't liked it when he sang so he'd stopped.

The memory brought more tears to his eyes.

The sound of a phone ringing somewhere in the large house made Aya pause for a second before resuming the preparation of vegetables. The sound stopped very quickly and a few moments later Omi reappeared with a huge smile on his face.

“Ken-kun is out of danger. They found the poison and administered the antidote in time.”

Aya nodded. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said quietly. Then a thought occurred and he turned to gaze at the young man. “You told us you wanted to ‘kill that cry-baby florist, Omi Tsukiyono and live as Takatori Mamoru.’ Does that still hold?”

Omi sighed. “At the time I thought it was for the best. I got a lot of things wrong then didn’t I? I grew up as Omi, had my most precious moments as Omi, yet I was determined to throw it all away for the sake of an old man’s dream. A dream that I didn’t really share. Even Yuushi Honjou hitting me didn’t make me see reason. 

“I…I did things that were worthy of some of our worst targets. I forced Naoe Nagi to kill for the first time and continued to arrange assassinations in the name of justice. I became everything I’d hoped to avoid becoming.

“Takatori is a cursed name I think but I’m not sure if I can ever go back to being Omi.” He looked up into Aya’s eyes. “Can you ever forgive me, Aya-kun, or is it as Yuushi said and you’re too angry and heartbroken?”

“If it helps at all, I’ve continued to think of you as Omi even while in London,” Aya said quietly.

Yohji heard the conversation through the filter of pain filling his heart.

He went to London.

I promised to give his sword back to him, and I broke that promise.

He turned away, stood staring out the window feeling strange, confused, his mind still divided. Ito Ryo. Kudoh Yohji.

Both and neither.

Ayame was quieting. The baby settling down, drifting to sleep.

What kind of life can I give her? Maybe I should give her up. Let her have a good life far away from her bloodstained father.

“Do you know anyone that might want to adopt a baby?” Yohji asked in a broken voice. “I can't keep her. I know it. But I don't want her going to just anyone.”

Aya and Omi exchanged a look. “Why can’t you keep her, Yohji-kun? You’re her father after all.”

“Isn't it enough that two women I loved have died because of me? I won't risk it with her. Better she go to a family who will love her than she remain with me and die.”

“Snap out of it, Kudoh.” Aya’s voice was like a bucket of cold water. “You’re a graphic artist living in a house with a high ranking politician and an electric fence round it for crying out loud! What harm can she possibly come to?”

Yohji turned around. “I... I'm what?” he asked in a shocked whisper.

“Your on compassionate leave for obvious reasons, Yohji-kun,” Omi chimed in, “but your job is still there when you are ready and able to return to it. As Ito Ryo of course.”

Aya’s eyes widened. “You thought we’d come to drag you into the old life?” He slammed the knife he’d been using down on the counter. “You’re the one who was able to escape. To build a different life. You think we wanted to take that from you?”

“I don't know! All I know is my real name is Kudoh Yohji and you're Aya! And that my wife is dead!” He'd yelled the last which awakened Ayame, the baby wailing in distress.

“Gods,” Yohji muttered and started to rock his daughter. “I'm sorry princess. Daddy's sorry. Please don't cry. I'm sorry baby.”

“Do you know why we came to Japan? Why Ken got poisoned and is now in the fucking hospital? To save your sorry ass and your family!” Aya stopped yelling and stared at the floor. “I’m so sorry we didn’t get there in time to save her. If I could turn back time and bring her back to you, I would.”

He returned to the sink and carried on cutting up vegetables. “I envy you. Despite your grief you have a way out and a family. I’m not even allowed to see my nephew as my brother-in-law thinks I’m dead. My sister wanted it that way.”

Omi’s eyes widened at that revelation. “Aya-kun, I’m so sorry.”  
Yohji stared. “Your sister... abandoned you?”

He looked down at the crying infant in his arms. His expression changed quick as the wind, going from stunned disbelief to anger. As if he'd come to some sort of decision the set of his mouth changed. Expression serious he walked over to Aya.

“Turn around, Aya.”

Aya put the knife down and turned, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“You're right, I've got a choice. I'm going to keep Ayame, but there's a condition,” Yohji said.

“Condition?”

“I can't do it alone, so I want you to help me Aya.” Yohji leaned close and kissed Aya gently.

When Yohji broke away, Aya stared at him, dumfounded. “But… I still am an assassin, Yohji. I don’t even know how to be anything else.”

“I'll support us both, Aya. And I'd bet you have money put away. You can quit, become my lover and stay home to take care of Ayame.” He considered it for a moment, then looked stunned. ”I had a lot of money saved. I wonder what happened to it and my car?”

He glanced at Omi. “Is Seven still around and what about my two bank accounts and my mutual fund account? Did you cash those in and sell the car Omi?”

“Of course not, Yohji-kun, I’m not a thief,” Omi said a little aggrieved by the suggestion that he would do such a thing.

“Well there were a lot of medical expenses, I wasn't sure how those bills got paid, so I just figured.” He shrugged. “I know I certainly didn't have it as Ito. Half the time I was scraping change together to ride the train to work.”

While the two of them were discussing Yohji's funds and belongings, Aya had slid slowly down the front of the sink. He began to laugh almost hysterically.

Yohji was startled by the sound of Aya's half crazed laughter. He passed the baby to Omi and crouched down beside Aya. “Hey,” he put a hand on Aya's shoulder, “what is it? What's wrong?”

“Your wanting me to become your lover. Gods how ironic.”

The blond sighed. “Aya, I've told you, even though I didn't know who I was, I remembered you. I named my daughter after you. That must mean something don't you think?” he asked giving the man's shoulder a gentle squeeze. “When I'd make love with her when we were first married it was you I fantasized about being with.”

He closed his eyes, fighting the tears and the lingering guilt. “When they broke into the house I was in the bathroom jerking off, thinking about you.”

Aya had stopped laughing by now and was shivering instead. “I’ve waited years to hear you say things like that but, before you do something you might regret you need to know the truth. 

“I’m not sure why you remembered me so distinctly and in that way as most of the time you were close to hating me.”

Yohji glanced at Omi. “Would you mind taking care of Ayame for a while? I think Aya and I need to talk.”

“Of course, Yohji-kun,” Omi said and left the kitchen carrying the gurgling baby.

Aya stayed exactly where he was, splay-legged on the floor, staring down at the tiles as if they could give him answers.

“The point here is that I loved you from a distance for a long time Aya, but I had a promise to keep to my mother. And I kept it. I did.” His voice shook and tears flooded his jade green eyes. He looked away from the man on the floor, stared at the ceiling, as tears spilled down his cheeks.

“I loved Asuka, so much. I really did. But I don't know if she ever felt that way about me.” He felt sick, but he went on with his confession. “I think she saw a powerful man coming to visit me and took that to mean I was someone special. Someone living on the edge of power and money and that some day I'd have that sort of wealth and influence too.”

He sat down on the floor facing Aya. “I suspected it about three months after we were married. She started to nag about not having enough money to get the things she wanted. By then she'd quit her nursing job and we were living on my income. I didn't pull a big salary, but we could live nicely on it, except for her spending. She'd go out and spend eighty thousand yen on a purse and I'd wind up skipping lunch for a week, or bringing instant noodles from home.

“Part of my pain is that, even if she hadn't been killed I think she was planning to divorce me and take Ayame away.”

He touched Aya's cheek. “I never forgot your face.”

Aya was silent for a long time before finally asking, “Just how much do you remember, Yohji?”

“I've got a lot of gaps. I remember finding you in my bed. I remember you dragging our sorry asses out of that ambush at the dump by the SD forces.”

He brushed some deep red hair from Aya's face. “I remember other things too. The way the bathroom would smell after you took a shower. The graceful movement of your body as you'd walk past me. The beauty of your hands when you made arrangements in the shop.”

Yohji stroked his fingers through Aya's hair, leaned in to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

Aya pulled away. “Yohji, if this is going to work at all, I need to be honest with you. I… I need to be forgiven.

“After the SD incident you thought you’d rediscovered the original Asuka in one of our enemies. She used that against you and betrayed us all. After that you took to drink and a succession of nameless women and became more and more depressed.

“I don’t know if you remember Villa Weiss, the cabin in the mountains, but you were sent there to calm down with me for company.”

He stopped speaking, turned away, ashamed. “I… I took advantage of you in the worst possible way, having some crazy notion to make you mine by it.

“After that you hated me and with good reason until a particular mission when I was injured. After that we shared a couple of nights as lovers more out of mutual comfort and companionship than anything else. Then you and Ken went to Europe on a mission and I stayed in Japan.

“When I saw you again – enough to say we nearly killed each other. Then the building collapsed on you and I thought you lost forever.”

Tears were streaming down his face when he turned back to face Yohji. “I always loved you but I was so fucked up. How could you possibly want me?”

“I know we were lovers. I remember that clearly.” Yohji shrugged. “And if that’s what I remember it’s because it had more meaning to me than the things I don’t remember.”

“And if you do remember one day and start hating me again then what?”

"I don't hate you. If I'd ever really hated you I'd remember it Aya." He closed his eyes, looked into the depths of his memory, peering into the past. "I know I was mad at you about--" he looked at Aya, "something that happened at Villa Weiss. But mad isn't hate."

Something tight and painful finally eased inside Aya and he leaned against Yohji not caring who did what to whom as long as they were together. “I never was very good at telling the difference between those two,” he admitted quietly. “My whole damned adult life was built on hate and anger.”

Yohji took Aya's face between his hands, forcing him to look up and meet his gaze. "No more, anger and hate.” He set his lips to Aya's in a kiss that turned demanding and possessive before he broke it off to say, "Omi will just have to get someone else for whatever version of Weiss he's got going now. You're out of the killing business. Permanently as of now."

Aya smiled. “Seems like I might be going into the daddy business.”

Yohji managed a bit of a smile as he said, "Hmm... I don't know with a name like Aya, you sound more like the mom." He grabbed both of the younger man's wrists, "No hitting."

“I didn’t want to say mom and upset you again. But staying at home and looking after a child sounds good to me.” He supposed that was something else they would have to think about, getting somewhere that they could call home finally.

Yohji closed his eyes, a few tears spilling from under his closed lids. "I loved her, but... the more I examine our relationship the more I come to understand she just wanted money, not me." He opened his eyes again. "It hurts that she's dead, and it hurts to finally admit that she never loved me. And much as I loved her, I never forgot you. I think that means that it was always you I wanted but I had that promise to my mother to keep. That's done and we can get on with making a life together, Aya. So, you want to be the mother to my princess?"

Aya shot Yohji a look. “If I’m to be her mother she will have to forget being a princess.” Then he stopped and thought about it. “Actually, no she won’t, as I’ll treat her the way I used to treat my sister. That’s the best I can do.”

And what a tragedy it was that the only woman who had ever really loved Yohji had been the first to die.

"That's good enough," Yohji said. He took Aya by the hand and stood up, pulling Aya to his feet. "Bedroom. Now."

“What about lunch?” But there was an amused twinkle in Aya’s eyes as he spoke.

"I've got my lunch, thank you," Yohji replied as he led Aya toward his bedroom. He stopped, his expression shocked. "Wait right here," he ordered and went back into the kitchen coming out with a bottle of sesame oil.

“That’s expensive lube, Yohji,” Aya said with a smirk.

"Nothing but the best for you. Besides I've used stuff that makes sesame oil seem cheap." He took Aya by the hand again and led him right to his bedroom. Once the door was closed he pinned Aya to the door and kissed him with all the pent up passion he'd been unable to show for months.

At last Aya was in the arms of the only man he’d wanted for years now so his response was every bit as passionate, as needy.

Yohji swept Aya up in his arms and carried him to the bed without breaking their kiss. He lay his lover down on the bed, his weight pressing the slender man down into the bed. He broke the kiss. "One thing. You can quit killing, but don't you dare stop practicing your sword katas. I like to watch."

Before Aya even got a chance to reply Yohji was kissing him again.

Deciding they had years in which to work out minor details, Aya opened his mouth and let Yohji plunder it as he pleased. All thoughts of ownership had gone with that perverse and uptight little prick from the Koneko. Now he just wanted to be here with Yohji and some well-earned peace.

Yohji put the oil down and started undressing Aya, kissing every inch of skin as he revealed it. "How could I forget you? So beautiful," he murmured as he kissed his way down Aya's throat, along his collar bone to his shoulder.

Aya closed his eyes and savoured the sensations for a while before opening them and remarking, “There’s something very unfair here.” He started to pull at Yohji’s clothes.

"Not yet Aya. I want you naked," Yohji replied and grabbed his lover's hands to pull them away from his clothes. "He smiled. Now behave or I'll tie you up."

The iced lilac eyes narrowed but Aya didn’t struggle. He was too busy wondering just how much Yohji did remember.

The blond returned to his slow undressing of Aya. He got his shirt off and kissed his chest, flicking the tiny pale nipples with his tongue. 

He dipped his tongue into Aya's navel and kissed lower as he slid Aya's jeans and underwear down over his hips. The younger man's cock was revealed for his inspection. Elegant, like a finely forged sword. He remembered things. Being pinned to the bed. Being fucked against his will. In some ways he'd wanted Aya to do just that. He knew it, knew that at some level he'd needed what Aya had done. But his promise to his mother had come first.

He shoved the cloth down pale thighs, kissing the smooth satin skin, feeling the hard muscles under his lips.

By the time he got Aya's clothes off his breath was fast and ragged and his cock ached. He watched a bead of precum emerge from Aya's erection and licked his lips.

"I want you Aya."

Aya was more than ready to oblige, his body thrumming like a finely tuned musical instrument. He could no more make demands right now than he could live on the sun. “Then take me Yohji,” he said, “I’m yours.”

Yohji started to undress, stripping his clothes off and letting them drop to the floor until he was fully naked.

Aya watched the unveiling of Yohji’s long, lean body with a moan of pure lust. He was still as beautiful as Aya remembered. Deceptively slender, incredibly strong.  
The blond crawled onto the bed. He picked up the bottle of oil and put it into Aya's hand. "I want you to fuck me Aya. Make me forget Ito Ryo. Make me yours."

Aya growled low in his throat at those words, remembered a day long ago when he’d wanted to do that very thing. This time, however, there would be no bonds, no toys, he didn’t need all that anymore. What he needed was right in front of him. 

Yohji.

Naked and willing.

“Come here.” He grabbed Yohji by the hair and kissed him passionately.

The blond went willingly, arms going around Aya as he rolled onto his back, pulling the sleek former assassin on top of him.

Aya left Yohji’s mouth to nuzzle at his neck, not moving from there until he’d left marks of ownership. 

Yohji was moaning by the time Aya finished putting his mark on Yohji's neck, the fingers of his right hand tangled in Aya's hair. "Do I belong to you now, Aya?"

“You always have, you just didn’t realise it before.” He moved down to lave, suck and nip at Yohji’s nipples.

Groaning, Yohji arched into the pleasure Aya was giving him. "Aya. Aya," he murmured his lover's name, voice rough with passion.

Aya smiled inwardly at the sound of his name on Yohji’s lips and moved down his body to give attention to his straining cock. He opened his mouth and deep throated it, revelling in the spicy taste.

“Aya, yes, gods yes,” Yohji gasped, a shudder passing through him, the blond holding himself still, refusing to lose control and fuck Aya's wonderful mouth.

He reached out, finding skin, silken hair. He twisted his fingers in Aya's hair, stroked the hard muscles of Aya's back, fingertips gliding over satin skin.

Aya. Silk and steel, satin and ice.

And Yohji loved him. He'd always loved Aya. Tears slid from his eyes.

Somehow, he'd always remembered Aya. Remembered his scent. His cold violet stare.

Aya sucked at him for a while longer before pulling away. “Mine,” he murmured, “finally mine.” He moved up Yohji’s body to share the taste of precum with him while he uncapped the bottle of oil and generously coated his fingers with some of the viscous fluid.

He reached down to the crack of Yohji’s ass and ran a finger over the puckered entrance to his own, personal heaven.

“Prove I'm yours. Fuck me Aya,” Yohji groaned, turning onto his side to give Aya better access for what the red-head was doing. “Fuck me until I beg for release.”

Aya smiled and inserted a finger. “Don’t worry, Yotan, I intend to prove it.” The finger moved in and out and was then replaced with two fingers and eventually three. He carefully stretched Yohji, preparing him.

“Yotan? That your pet name for me, Aya?” Yohji asked, as the fingers worked his anal muscles. He wanted this, but he felt the fluttering of nervousness in his belly. The last time Aya had done this...

The past. And you know you wanted it. You wanted it then as much as you want it now, you were just too proud and stubborn to admit you wanted him, not all those women.

“Don’t you like it?” Aya asked. “You saddled Ken with Kenken for long enough.”

“I was teasing him.” Yohji twisted around, “Are you going to fuck me or talk?” he challenged.

Aya gazed back at him, one eyebrow cocked. “I’m going to fuck you when I’ve finished preparing you.”

“I'm ready, damn it! Now fuck me,” Yohji growled, green eyes hot with lust for the other man.

Aya shook his head, an amused smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Always so impatient, Yotan.” He removed the fingers and pushed Yohji onto his back. “I want to see you this time.”

He positioned himself and eased gently into the blond’s body, gasping at the remembered feeling of belonging there, of coming home.

Yohji gasped, the pressure as Aya slid in pain and pleasure. “Yesss... gods Aya... fuck me!” he urged, throwing one leg over Aya's shoulder, tilting his hips to give the red-head better access.

Aya lifted Yohji’s other leg until it too was resting against his shoulder then drove into him. “You want to be fucked, I’ll fuck you all right. I’ll make it so you never want anyone else ever again.”

Yohji cried out as the cock stroked his prostate, sending flares of lightning pleasure blazing through him.

Aya began to thrust in earnest, years of frustration and seemingly unrequited love making him almost violent.

The blond cried out, gasping from the mix of pleasure and the hint of pain Aya's violence gave. He fisted the sheets, head back .

"Yessss.... harder... harder," Yohji cried out. "Make me yours."

“Look at me, Yohji,” Aya gasped out. “I want to watch your face as you come. I want to see that you’re mine.”

Yohji obeyed and lifted his head from the pillow to look into Aya's violet eyes. Through everything he'd gone through he'd never forgotten those eyes which told him he'd never really forgotten Aya.

"Fuck me harder. Hurt me, own me!" Yohji cried out the words, begging, pleading with the only man who'd ever dominated him, owned him, used him.

The words filtered through to Aya’s lust-addled brain and he stopped thrusting and gazed into eyes the colour of summer leaves. “I don’t want to hurt you, Yohji, I just want you to love me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

"I love you, Aya. I... I always have." Yohji shuddered, his fists clutching the sheets tight. "Since I found you in my bed but.... I... couldn't accept it. I'd promised no more men... Please! Aya, please, I want to cum."

Aya relented as he heard the words he’d waited to hear for so long, and began to thrust again. This time his movements were gentler, tender almost, and he leaned forward to capture Yohji’s lips with his own.

Yohji groaned at the slowed pace, one hand leaving the sheets to grip Aya's shoulder. He wanted to beg, but with Aya kissing him all he could manage were pleading moans as Aya's tongue thrust into his mouth.

And because Aya had always known exactly what Yohji needed, he pulled away from the kiss and pounded into Yohji, making sure to hit that spot on every violent thrust. His hands gripped Yohji’s hips so hard his fingers left bruises, bruises that he knew the blond would wear with pride.

"FUCK ME, AYA! FUCK ME!" Yohji screamed it, body moving with every thrust, mind sliding into the place where pain and pleasure fuelled a special sort of passion. One that required he belong to the red-haired killer, the swordsman who owned his heart.

“Yessss,” Aya hissed and drove into Yohji even harder and faster. “Come for me, Yohji, please.”

Lightning flashed through his body as he climaxed. "AYA! AYA!" he screamed his lover's name. "Ayan," more softly, his cock pulsing, spilling his seed across his own belly.

Above him Aya gasped and he was filled with liquid heat. “Yotan,” Aya whispered, making the name sound like a prayer before he spread Yohji’s legs and licked the cum off his belly.

The blond shuddered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Kami... sama... Ayan..." Yohji's head dropped to the pillows. "I love you."

Aya lifted his head and smiled. “I love you too, Yotan.”

They had things to work out yet, decisions to make, but with each other and a little girl to care for, they'd work everything out.

Especially since the strongest bond they had was the bond of love.


End file.
